The Zen of Raindrops
by Chou
Summary: Sanzo thinks philosophy during a rainy night.


Disclaimer: I don't own Saiyuki, I certainly don't own Sanzo, but I do own the writing and little philosophical thoughts. Also, the narration in this is a bit choppy, I think. The focus is on Sanzo, but only the italicized sections are his first person.   
  
The Zen of Raindrops  
by Chou  
  
It was raining. Hard. He hated rain like this. Hated all rain, really. It made him moodier than usual. And it forced him to do something he didn't like: think deeply. Dwell would probably be a more appropriate term. Whatever you called it, Genjo Sanzo sat by the window lost in thought. The little used part of his brain that thought philosophy like a "real" monk had taken over for some reason. Normally, he would've just blocked it out and brooded, but, to be honest, he was tired. It had been a long trip, on a shitty road, and the damned rain had started before they reached the damned rat hole inn. So he just let the thoughts come because he was too tired to do otherwise. Besides which, if he was lucky, it would keep his mind off…other things.

Oddly enough, for all his breaking every rule made by god and man for a Sanzo, he did have a philosophical side. Usually he just cut it with his nihilism, was all. But if had given a rat's ass, Genjo Sanzo could've been a great teacher and philosopher. Truly enlightened. If he had given a rat's ass about it. Which he didn't, not in the slightest. Part of it was just his natural nihilism, part of it was to spite those stodgy, stuck up, bald- headed assholes in monasteries far and wide. But deep down inside, part of it was because his Master had been enlightened, and smart, and wise…and unable to defend himself. Which is why he died. So Genjo Sanzo traded fame and making the world a better place for a gun and the refusal to die. A fair trade off, in his view.  But, once in a very long while, he just sat and philosophized, just for shits and giggles and distraction.

He thought:_ A lot of people find the sound of falling rain soothing. The little pitter-patter of rain on the roof is comforting to them. It relaxes them, so they look forward to the occasional rain.  
  
Now, other people find deep thoughts in rain. Philosophy. Rain is clean, yet makes things dirty from mud. It's small droplets, but causes rivers to swell. It can make or destroy a harvest. To some people, the rain carries many contradictions and endless philosophy.   
  
And then…there's some to who the rain is the tears of heaven. The rain to them means sorrow and loss, memories and wounds unhealed. Tears from the sky, blood on the ground, sorrow in people's hearts.   
  
Three guesses which I am, and the first two don't count._

"Ah, I'm guessing the second?" Hakkai's voice jolted him out of his reverie.   
  


He turned, slightly startled. "What?"   
  
Hakkai looked at him placidly. "You were talking about the rain. Rather deep thoughts, actually. I didn't realize you were a philosopher." Hakkai smiled at him.

Sanzo shook his head as if to clear it. "Hnn. Hadn't realized I was speaking out loud." He turned his back and lit a cigarette, mentally cursing himself all the while. Shit, he must've sounded exactly like the enlightened monk type he tried so damn hard not to be. He took a drag on his cigarette, letting the smoky poison fill his lungs before blowing it out in a snaky stream.

"Ah, then I apologize. I'll try not to eavesdrop on your inner monologue from now on." The voice wafted from behind his back, not a hint of sarcasm. It was there, of course, in the non malicious way only Hakkai could pull off, but it was a challenge to Sanzo too. A challenge to keep talking. Sanzo wasn't the only one who hated the rain. 

Sanzo turned with hooded eyes. He tried, unsuccessfully, to stare Hakkai into some form of submission. He wasn't offended, no, not really. He just didn't feel like talking, and trying to stare down Hakkai was always a diverting challenge. Not that he ever succeeded. Hakkai was the only one who could meet his stare evenly. The cool green of Hakkai's eyes, the sorrow that they contained under that calm surface was a perfect counter to the harsh and beautiful purple death glare of Sanzo. Sanzo turned after a minute of staring, and inhaled more of his cigarette. He looked outside. The rain was falling heavily, and the wind was pushing it almost horizontal. The shabby inn walls creaked against the wind. 

Maybe we'll get lucky and the inn will fall on our damn heads.  
  
Nah. With our damned luck, it'd just kill Hakkai, wound the rest of us, and wake up the damn saru. Then we'd be rideless, crippled, and have the saru whining for food. 

"What about you?" He asked with his back to Hakkai. He could barely make out the other man's reflection in the rain streaked window.  
  
"Hmm. A good question. When I was younger, I supposed I liked the rain. I stayed inside most of the time anyway, reading, and when it rained, I had an excuse to do so. As I grew older, I'm sure I saw some philosophy in rain. Poetry at least…"  
  
"And now?" Sanzo cut him off.

The voice behind him was slightly subdued. "I think you know the answer to that. And you?"  
 

Sanzo stubbed out his cigarette on the windowsill and turned. "Easy. I'm the fourth option."   
  
Hakkai's head tilted to the side in slight confusion. "There was a fourth?"

Sanzo smirked, a humorless tightening of the lips. " 'And then there are those who simply say 'To hell with the rain, I could give a rat's ass either way.' " It was a lie, of course, and they both knew it. But it was enough to make Hakkai smile slightly, drag him from the edge of the rainy hell in his mind for the time being. 

"Ah, that fourth option. Good choice, that." Hakkai's smile widened.

Sanzo turned from the window and went to lie down on one of the two lumpy beds in the small room. "Enough philosophy. We leave the second this damned rain's gone. Judging by the looks of it, that'll be morning. I'm getting some sleep, and you can either get some too, or if you're two noisy while I sleep, I'll just shoot you. Good night."

Hakkai smiled, sad and amused at the same time. "Ah, understood. Good night, Sanzo."  
  
Sanzo listened to Hakkai pause for a bit to stare out the window before climbing into the other bed. Meanwhile, Sanzo thought about the philosophy he had spouted this rainy night. 

Author's Notes: Well, a bit of a short piece, isn't it? Ah well, I feel it gets the point across, and since its rather pointless, that's quite the feat, isn't it? :)  
  
Dedicated to:  
  
Tess: Since I initially wrote Hakkai in what was going to be a Sanzo-only for her amusement, Hakkai-fangirl that she is. That, and Sanzo needed someone to talk to, so it all worked out.

The rain: for inspiration, but not for the slight cold it seems to have given me.

Minekura-sensei: For the fascinating character of Genjo Sanzo.


End file.
